New Beginnings
by PerverseLeigh
Summary: As a teen, in the 1970s, Nan would have had it hard enough. As a dragon girl in the circus, though? Hey! It wasn't all that bad... Then she and her brother got scholarships to that gifted school in NY and life seemed to be looking nowhere but skyward. Can a circus freak really fit in with real people?
1. New Beginnings

Hey guys, as we all know, I don't own the copyrighted stuff.

I'm not going to argue any continuity stuff, with ANYONE. This is a WIP from a different project: The names and places have been changed to protect the innocent...

~:}Y{:~

I slowly drifted into consciousness with that itchy, nagging feeling of someone watching me.

"Kurt!" I groaned at my adopted brother, before opening my eyes. "What are you doing in my room? Miss Martha told you to stay on your own side!"

I heard the familiar soft pop of matter displacement, then felt Kurt's weight pushing my hammock further toward the floor.

"Today's the day, Nan!" His voice was pitched in a low, excited whisper and my mind searched for the sense in his statement. He projected a single, clear thought for me to pick up.

It was a picture of a man in a wheelchair. Kurt's thought picture, brightened with excitement, was as clear as when this guy had come to see us, last week. His dark hair was a medium length, but not recently cut; as if he'd had a stylish cut at some point this year, but hadn't gotten a trim in a few months. He was thin, but not as sickly as other people I had seen in wheelchairs. He looked as if he got regular exercise, no matter the inability to walk. His face was a bit gaunt, and he talked British like that band Evelyn the Bearded Lady was always going on about.

The man had cornered Kurt and I between our gigs at the Freakshow tent and chores at the petting zoo. We were walking between the tents, at the back of the cages, when we heard him call out to us.

Now, normally, I would have given Kurt the 'GO' sign so he could pop us back into our trailer... but there was something very familiar and comforting about this particular cripple.

He was looking for our parents, he told us, but stopped when he saw me roll my eyes and Kurt wave 'quotes figers' in the air. That's the first time I've ever heard a clear telepathic thought. Almost painfully clear, in fact. He wanted us to come to his school.

Neither Kurt, nor I, had ever been to a real school, but I knew that Miss Martha and the circus manager Konnor Baker had a really stiff contract for us. I politely declined his offer, but he insisted that we take him to our boss to talk about the contract terms.

I'm not quite sure what he said to them, but when they exited the managers' trailer they were all smiling and saying stupid shit like: "I always knew they were meant for bigger things..." and, "I'm so proud of my young'ns!" I mean... Really? This guy must have given them a lot of cold, hard cash to get us out of our contracts!

Anyway, this Xavier guy said that he would be back to get us today, to take us to his school in upstate New York. I had a few doubts about the whole situation, but as Kurt had pointed out: "Der'z no vay somevun vould pay dis much fer our contracts und not collect on dem." That was pretty sound thinking...

So, now my stupid blue brother was flitting around my 'room',(the back half of a small trailer we shared,) putting what little I had into a few mix-matched bags and jabbering on about meeting new people who weren't there to point and stare at us 'freaks'.

"Kids our age, Nan!" He popped out of her room, then back in with her makeup from the freakshow dressing room and stuffed it into a faded denim backpack. "Special people, like us!"

I did have to admit that the prospect of new friends who didn't want to touch my wings, or tug on them to prove they're fake, (They're NOT!) was kind of enticing. I was going through my things, making sure Kurt had gotten everything, when I 'heard' a telepathic Come-Hither, like a knock on the door of my mind.

"Iz dat him, Nan? You got that look again!" Kurt was looking at me expectantly, but I waved him away so I could concentrate on the sensation; willing his thoughts to focus in my mind.

 ***Very good, Nan!*** His British accent was evident, even in thought. ***I have sent a 'gentleman' to pick you both up, as I cannot make the trip today.*** With his statement he showed me an image of a short, stocky man who felt like pure, primal rage and smelled of the forest and bright metal. I got a sense that he would arrive near noontime.

I wasn't very good at the whole mind-talking thing, but I filled my mind with the sense of agreement, threaded with excitement and let him view what I was seeing: Kurt popping about like a deranged blue popcorn kernel, gathering trinkets into my backpack.

I received another image of a beaten-up black Jeep and the distinct impression of amusement... there was something else that tantalized me; a memory attached to his thoughts of me. I reached for the feeling of familiar blue skies and fire, but I was blocked. The professor closed the door on that memory and I got a sense of amused chastise.

 ***Soon...*** his thoughts faded away from mine and the void he left was almost heartbreaking. For just a moment he filled a space that I'd never known was empty, but now that his thoughts had moved on, I was acutely aware that I was missing something... someone...?

I sighed and continued to clean up several years of clutter from our home. I was in the middle of scrubbing the small cooktop when there was a sharp rap on the door.

Kurt disappeared with a POP and opened the door from the outside. He was standing on our small stoop with a stout man who gave off an aire of immovability, like he had been forged of the Earth, herself. The guy glanced around the small living space with an odd grunt of approval, then cleared his throat and spoke to us with a deep, gravelly voice.

"I'm Logan." He stated, matter-of-fact. "The Professor sent me to escort you to school. Are you ready?"

The way he asked made me think that he had come ready for a fight; he was only mildly surprised when Kurt popped out of view, then back with all of our bags piled in his arms and slung over various parts of his body.

"Jya!" Kurt grinned at Logan's complete dismissal of his unusual mode of transportation. "Ve have been ready vor hours!" He hung my tasselled cape on my shoulder and I glared at him. This guy was an hour early.

"Kurt is ready." I grabbed a clean towel off the shelf by the door. "I need a shower and some coffee." I walked forward so Logan would have to back out of the doorway to give me room to exit.

"You can come like that." Logan didn't back out of the way, he just cocked an eyebrow at me. "We can stop at McDonald's for coffee."

"NO." I opened my wings, making myself much bigger than comfortable for such a small space. "I will take you up on breakfast... After my shower."

He did back up to the edge of the doorframe, but held his ground there. His eyes never left mine, but we were both aware that I was bare as the day I hatched in the Oddities trailer. I held his gaze and gave him my best 'I will eat your soul' grin.

There was another tiny POP and Kurt called to logan from outside. "Iz dis your Jeep? I vill load our tingz vuile she gets ready."

Emotion flickered behind Logan's eyes, but he settled on resignation. He heaved a sigh and turned away from me to help Kurt with the luggage. Kurt's voice floated across the yard as I trotted to the shower.

"It's best to not fight her on some'n so small. She just don't budge; ya know..?"

After the quickest shower I have ever taken, I was waylaid by Evelyn who gave me a backless sundress she had made for my hatching day gift and a soggy farewell hug. Her teary-eyed enthusiasm for our departure seemed to be echoed in every goodbye, and fare-the-well that Kurt and I were sent off with that day.

I was sad to leave behind the only family I had ever known; but I was also excited to be in a new situation... sort of. There was still a lot of driving cross-country to do.

Logan had taken the cloth top off of his old Jeep in order to fit all the things Kurt had packed up for us, and I hadn't the heart to tell either of them that I didn't need most of the crap they had piled into the rickety vehicle. I climbed up into the front seat and folded my wings around the back of the chair. We strapped ourselves onto the seats with the odd crash restraints and I began to feel like my life might be looking up.

"You know... Kurt said from the bench in the back, "I'm gonna miss dis place." It was a sort of ritual he and I had. This was my cue to say: 'Until next year!' but that seemed wrong, somehow. I wasn't coming back, and I wasn't too sad about it, either.

"Not me, Buddy!" I chirped back at him in a sing-song voice. Kurt snorted and muttered something I didn't quite catch over the sound of the engine turning over and Logan putting it into gear.

As soon as the Jeep picked up speed, the wind whipped my green and brown hair away from my face making me feel as if I were flying. The wind comforted me, and the warm noon sun lulled me back into a trance-like sleep, like the lizard I am. I could hear the sounds of the road, but they were veiled in the imagination of sleep.

A voice came to me on the wind, and I strained my sleepy mind to hear it. Was she crying?

Calling to me...? I could barely hear her voice. I hadn't heard her voice in so long I was able to convince myself that she had never existed. She was just the imagination of a lonely child. The stories she would tell! No one would hurt a child like that... would they?

 ***They're coming for me...*** The words drifted into my head as if they were from a different Me. The tone was richer, more mature, and confident. She was no longer a scared, lonely child in pain. She wasn't reaching out to me and begging me to save her from them. She was no longer angry that I could just leave her behind with her tormentors.

This time she felt relieved, thankful. The noise around her overlaid Kurt's prattle from behind me and I realized that she could hear fighting. Alarms blared suddenly and I got the sense of her shock, then a sort of fury that I have never before experienced from any creature in my entire life.

I felt her rage as if it were my own, and there was no sense in it. Threats...? You will not touch her! I will rip the beating heart from your chest and feed on it as you die! I will wear your entrails!

When I snapped out of my trance my face was wet with hot tears and my throat was raw from screaming. The most disturbing thing was that I stood on the side of the road, and had shifted into what Kurt like to call 'Battle Mode'.

Long talons had come from my fingers and toes, spines grew from my vertebrae. My rough skin had hardened into thick, leathery scales and my teeth were now long, sharp fangs. This changed the shape of my face a bit, making it longer and my features sharper. My eyes had elongated into tilted almonds and I could see further into the light spectrum, making colors bright with more full shades and hues.

Logan was in front of me, holding my shoulders. His face was a mess of rapidly healing gouges and he was growling in pain. I looked down.

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed and pulled my talons out from between his ribs. Blood oozed out of the ragged tears I had made, but stopped in a couple of heartbeats. "I'm so sorry, Mister Logan!" I started to grovel, but he held up a hand to stop me. I noticed that he had a rather impressive set of claws, too.

"S'ok, kid..." He grimaced and retracted his claws with the sound of metal being sheathed. "It's not the first time someone's tried to rip my chest open; probably not the last." He gave my shoulder an awkward pat and stalked back to the Jeep muttering something about dragons before breakfast.

I looked around for Kurt and found him pulling himself up out of the tall grass nearby. He was scratched, and probably bruised, but it looked like he had managed to stay away from my claws, this time.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, in comparison. We got our coffee and a couple of burgers at a drive-up McDonald's, and the car hop complimented me on my leather cape, draped over the back of the seat. I did NOT correct her. It was two more hours of drive after that, up into the Catskills, where Mr. Xavier had his School for Gifted Youth on a huge forested estate.

At some random point along a road that was just black top, without lines, Logan directed the Jeep onto a well-worn gravel road and they bounced along the winding path for a couple minutes before I realized that this was the driveway. We were here!

I could smell fresh water out there, somewhere beyond the tall trees; but I couldn't hear it flowing, so I figured there was a lake, or pond that I needed to check out. I heard Kurt's breath catch, and I looked out the front windshield.

We drove out of the old growth forest and into the fruit orchard, and I saw it. This old stone building that I was going to call home. There was excitement inside and out, I couldn't help but get swept up in it all. Professor Xavier must have given up his family home to house and train his 'special' youngsters. It was all so fancy!

The huge stone manor house had a few wooden and brick outbuildings, all of which seemed to have seen heavy usage. There were footpaths all through the orchards and I could see the tips of cornstalks peeking out from behind one of the outbuildings. My mouth was all but watering from the thought of tasty fresh vegetables.

"Looks like Charles ain't made it back, yet." Logan commented when we pulled around the large loop in front of the main house. He looked as if he would have said more, but right then we were greeted by a gaggle of giggling teenagers.

One girl took my elbow and pulled me out of the swarm. She was a calm, sweet girl with gossamer butterfly wings and a pretty smile. "Hi! I'm your guide, Pixi. Which bags are yours?" She pointed at the growing pile of luggage by the Jeep.

I looked back at the dissipating knot of young people and found my brother right at home in the middle. He was dragging cases out onto the gravel and stacking them to the side. He saw me looking, and waved me on ahead then turned back to one of the girls he was introducing himself to.

"Oh no?" I heard his bragging tone carry over the heads of the other youth and rolled my eyes. "You don't think I can carry all of deez? Oh, maybe not. But dis much for sure!" POP.

Pixi showed me through the grand foyer, up one of the sweeping staircases and down the girls dormitory wing. We stopped in front of a small room with a single bed, and she turned to me.

"Is this okay with you?" Her eyes flicked from me, to the small room and back, in a quick, nervous tick. I just quirked an eyebrow at her like 'Mister Spock' from Star Trek and her nervous smile turned into a grimace. "Logan called when you stopped for breakfast."

That was all she needed to say. I felt my face flush that embarrassing shade of purple, like the color of grape kool-aid, and Pixi placed her hand back on my elbow.

"It's okay, Nan! Lots of kids here have quick tempers!"

I was already irritated with myself for having lost control in the first place, but now they thought I could be a danger to the other kids. I looked away from her and stepped into the proffered room. It was about 12 feet by 10 feet, with a bed in one corner, a desk, and a chair in another corner, and a wardrobe against the hallway wall.

"Naw, this is great, Pixi." I said with a smile that was only slightly forced. I pointed to the door at the end of my bed. "Where does this go?"

"Oh! That goes into the next room." She smiled and stepped into the room with me. "It's empty right now, but if everything goes right we'll have another flyer in there before supper, tonight."

"What do you mean: 'If everything goes right'?" I asked. "Doesn't she want to be here?"

Pixi looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening and stepped a little closer to me, so I could hear her lowered voice.

"I heard the Professor talking to Bobby about her." Pixi's rosy pink eyes darkened with anger. "She reached out to Charles while he was sleeping. She told him that she was being held against her will and that they were doing experiments on her! That's why he couldn't come get you today..." She stopped talking to look at the dainty watch on her wrist.

"Hey! We can still get some lunch! The Professor calls it Tea, but we have, like, two lunches. Are you hungry?" She turned and motioned for me to follow her.

We walked back down the hall toward the front of the house. She was showing me where the kids liked to hang out, when we found Kurt, standing with my bags, in the recreation room between the wings.

"Ver ta put yer bags, Nan?" He asked when we had closed the gap between us.

Before Pixi could give him directions, I deposited the coordinates, room dimension, images, and my unique sense of the energies flowing about the room, all directly into his memory. He popped there and back in the time it took Pixi to ask:

"Where'd he go?" She blinked in surprise and giggled when he popped back at our side. "Oh! You're like Blink! Come to lunch with us and I'll introduce you."

"Lunch?" Kurt perked up at the mention of food. "I put yer bags on da bed, Nan."

"Perfect, thanks." I smiled at the young man I had known all of my life. His energy was often infectious, and right now he was practically buzzing with elation.

Pixi showed us to the dining hall and walked with us through the lunch line while explaining all the Do's and Don'ts of dining hall etiquette. When we all had trays filled with sandwiches, fruit, chips and drinks, she took us to a table at the back of the room to introduce us to a couple of her friends.

I could see the exact moment when Kurt developed a HUGE crush on Pixi's friend, Blink. It wasn't that she stole his lunch... but HOW she stole it. I laughed so hard when she created a tiny portal under his food and just sort of pulled it on through. The look on his face was almost as precious as the shock on hers, when he popped behind her so that he could reach over her shoulder to take it back. For the rest of the time they were at Xavier's school, those two were almost inseparable.

After our late lunch Pixi and Blink took us out the front door to take a look at the grounds. We had barely stepped off the front steps, onto the gravel of the drive, when a shade cast over us. Something large was flying low and fast.

It was one of those spine tingling moments when prey animals feel small and vulnerable. Indeed, Pixi ducked her head under her arms as if something would pluck her off the ground, and I saw a few others cringe away from the cooling shadow.

I looked around and froze. I knew that shadow! That was mine! Well... of course it wasn't mine; That lazy bum was still sitting on the ground next to me. But...

I was overwhelmed by the feeling of need. I needed to see this person flying over head... I needed to fly up and catch her... I needed to follow her into the clouds and dodge ethereal mists in the sky...

So deep was my need that I only realized that I was flying over the mansion when Pixi flew in front of me, blocking my passage. "What the hell are you trying to do, Nan?!"

I caught myself into a sort of gliding hover and cocked my head, quizzically. (I'm quite aware how much I look like a flying water dragon when I do that; thanks.) "What do you mean, Pixi?" I was irritated that she had blocked me from my goal.

"Didn't you hear the professor?" She was fluttering along beside me, and a little below, so that she didn't get plastered along my wing membrane. "He said that we should NOT chase her! She's probably scared and a little unstable, right now."

As I listened to my new friend's words I was overcome with scorn, and not a little fatigue. In the distance I could see the other flyer hover for a moment, falter, then catch herself and flatten out in a slow glide back toward and below us. The other flyer got closer, and I felt more and more tired... but I wasn't tired. She was transmitting her fatigue and impatience. I mean: I wasn't the most practiced at flying, but this fatigue was like what I felt the very first time I took flight!

I motioned for Pixi to ride my wake as I took lazy circles in a tightening spiral to the level the new flyer was at. We fell into an odd formation where Pixi continued to spiral down as I leveled out just in front, and a little below the new girl. I adjusted my waste stream so that she would be held up and buffered a little by my windbreak. Once she realized what I was doing, I felt a wave of relief and appreciation flow over me.

 ***** _ **Do you**_ _**know**_ **that I'** _ **m**_ **t** _ **e**_ **lepathic** _ **?**_ ***** I laced mirth through my thought.

 _ ***Yes,***_ The familiarity of her mental 'voice' surprised me, and I faltered for a heartbeat. _***I**_ **just didn't** _ **know**_ **if** _ **YOU**_ **did.** _ *****_ It was her! The girl in my head! My imaginary friend was really here, flying next to me!

 _ *****_ **Technically, I'm in your wake...** _ *****_ There was a tired sort of morbidity to her thought speech, and I got picture flashes of an amorphous grey-blue homunculus riding the back of a beautiful emerald and amethyst dragon, highlighted by twinkling swirls of purples and greens in every imaginable shade and hue.

I tweaked the image a bit and sent it back to her with my view of her, superimposed over the featureless grey golem. Her colors were every shade of blue, from the deepest midnight, to the softest powder blue that swirled in flowing patterns over her skin, and shoe in her hair like cerulean streamers. Her energies flowed silver and blue, touching everything she interacted with. It moved through and around my purple and green whorls, mingling as if they were part of a whole. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen,

I felt that hollow part of me begin to fill. It was like snapping a puzzle piece into the whole; just one more bit that I didn't know was missing, until she was flying beside me...

I took us on another lazy circle back behind the house, around the orchards, and lined up with a grass field beside the far arm of the driveway loop. As I pulled my knees up for my landing, I felt a sharp wave of panic from her. I guessed that if she hadn't been allowed to fly, she probably didn't know how to land!

I let her into my process as well as I could. I let her feel my adjustments and how I tensed in just the right place so that I could break my momentum, and not my bones. I touched down a little fast, so that I could use the spare momentum to propel myself safely out of her way.

She took a couple of back beats to kill her momentum, mid-air, then opened her wings all the way to glide in for a graceful touchdown. It wouldn't have been my first choice of maneuvers with fatigued wings, but she got to the point where the air pressure from her slow glide couldn't support her body weight and simply stepped out of the air.

Once we were both safely on the ground I had a chance to see her with corporeal eyes. She was... tattered. There wasn't a patch of her scaley, ashy, grey-blue skin that I could see, what didn't have some sort of scarring, and it looked as if one of her eyes had been removed then replaced. Her cobalt and hematite hair was shaved half-way up one side of her head and the other half had been cut away in ragged chunks of varying length.

She folded her wings tightly around her body and I noted pockmarks and small holes in the porous membrane. The thought of chunks of my wings being removed made me wince. She rounded on me and stalked the hundred or so feet to close the gap.

I braced for a confrontation, but she snapped out a wing to cup it around behind me and drag me into a crushing hug.

"I've waited so long to see you, sister..." She murmured. Her voice was rich and melodic in my ears, and the hug was so natural to me that I found myself winding my arms around her too-thin frame and returning the firm embrace for a long few heartbeats before she pushed away.

She held me at arm's length to look me over and picked imaginary lint from my shawl. Her talons were painfully short, and there were defence wounds of varying ages all down her arms.

"So..." She smiled at me, then turned toward the house with one wing still wrapped around my shoulders like a loose blanket. "Have to found food in this place, yet?"


	2. And So, We Learned

There was a battery of tests, at first. Things like general school-type knowledge was tested in the stuffy confines of an upper-story classroom. There were well loved wooden armchairs pushed up to heavy wooden library tables, and a large grey-green slate board hung on one side of the room, giving that 'classroom' feel to a place that would otherwise be called a solar, or tea room.

We placed well. Both Kurt and I were well read, having heard Miss Martha when she complained that we would always be treated like beasts, if we were stupid. Christine... did well. She had a different way of learning what she needed to pass the tests.

 ***Psst!*** Mainly from my brain. ***What's number 13?***

 ***Isn't this cheating?***

 ***Not if I'm learning as we go!***

 ***Are you** _ **really**_ **learning?***

 ***Yup! Eidetic memory, just like you.***

 ****Girls.**** Charles easily cut into the deep telepathic communication we two dragon girls had developed. ****Concentrate on your schoolwork, please?****

When we blush, my new sister and I flush with the same under-hue of royal blue. My cheeks and ears burned emerald and plum, while Christine's turned cerulean and navy. I quickly gave Christine the steps to work the mathematical puzzle, then the answer. Here, the only thing worse than getting caught cheating, was to get caught not helping your teammates when they needed you.

Next, there was a range of physical trials. We crawled, climbed, scaled, flew, and even got to swim in this huge pond in the wooded backlot of the manor. The tests felt more like playing around, than any evaluation... but Jean and Logan both said that they got a good purview of our individual talents while we splashed, and dove, and teased each other into greater feats of aerodynamic acrobatics.

Christine was practically jumping for joy when we got to the fighting portion of our evaluation. She was the first to square-off against Logan, and I couldn't help but smile. I was totally expecting one, or both of them to be surprised.

"OK." Logan gathered our attention with his grave, gravely tone of voice. "These spars are not 'to-the-death'. I wanna know how much you know about the body mechanics of fighting. First, we're going to cover self-protection; then we'll move on to offencive attacks." He squinted at my pretty blue sister, pointing a finger and a scowl at her. "NO, Christine! That does NOT mean kicking me in the nuts and calling me vulgar names."

She grumbled something about no sense of humor, but squared off with him, just the same. He proceeded to pummel the poor girl until she lost all control over her senses. One minute she was a thin teen girl, the next her bones elongated and her muscles flowed around them like putty. She rolled her shoulders and I could hear tiny pops as her bones resituated, and the carotene lumps on her vertebrae grew into pronounced spines as sharp as needles. Her stubby claws grew into razor-like talons and she grew an extra spike from her wrists and heels. My brain at once was confused, and knew exactly what I was watching... but I had never seen my own transformation from the outside.

He waited just long enough for her body to completely reform, before he whooped her. Chris did get in a few good strikes that would have maimed, or even killed a lesser foe; but Logan's jagged wounds sealed up almost as fast as she could rend his flesh apart.

Breathing hard, and chuckling to himself, Logan called a halt to their sparring match. Christine's form seemed to smooth like liquid flowing beneath her scales; pulling her in, shrinking her down to her 'normal' form. Her deep breathing popped her ribs back into their smaller configuration, and caused her abs to flex, compacting around her abdomen.

She placed light, human-sized fingertips over the shiny pink lines of the healing wounds on his chest and traced along the largest until it faded into a silver-white line.

"That is a handy trick you've got there..." Her rich voice was husky and breathless. "Can I keep you?"

Some sort of look flashed through his eyes, and the corner of his lip twitched in such a way that I was surprised when he grunted: "No." He grasped her fingers, pulling them away from his skin carefully, and let them go. Christine's hand hung in the air between them for a heartbeat before she brought her fingers together and pressed her fist to her sternum. She nodded once, but her eyes never left his. I don't know if I'll ever understand that strangely intense salute...

Kurt went next. He popped in and out of space, planting three out of every four hits he threw at our instructor. POP; POP; POP! Logan's head snapped back & blood splattered from his nose.

Christine was laughing and clapping her hands, as I looked on in awe. I never knew that my brother and partner in pranks most heinous was actually capable of this level of destruction. I mean... pranks are tough to pull off, but this was totally awesome!

Logan began to land more hits, as Kurt tired. Who would have guessed that displacing your body mass through a couple different dimensions several hundred times in a few minutes would take so much energy? No, I'm not being sarcastic, at alllllll...

Logan landed one hit a little too well, and Kurt flew up against the wall. He just sort of hit it with a splat and slid down like Sylvester the Cat. I had already taken a couple steps toward Kurt when I saw his arm come away from his side and he 'tapped-out' against the concrete blocks of the wall he was now propped up against.

"YIELD!" He groaned, "I yield to my better."

"Not bad, kid." Logan grunted with approval, while I took Kurt's upheld hand and hauled him to his feet. "I want you to work on your hand-to-hand skills, without the... popping."

Kurt frowned a bit. He really does like to use his special way of getting around... but he nodded and popped to the sidelines, leaving me standing alone to face Logan.

"You ready?" His voice was low, almost a growl.

I gulped down a nervous lump in my throat and looked at our grizzled instructor. Why hadn't I noticed that his skin was mostly scar tissue? Thin silver-white lines and pock-marks made a sort of morbid lacework over every bit of skin I could see, telling a sad tale of abuses that no one but Logan would ever truly know. I did NOT want to fight this dude...

"No..." My voice cracked a little, so I shook my head for emphasis.

"Good!" Logan barked the word as he lunged at me.

To my surprise, I was able to swivel out of the way of his charge, and soon found myself doing a sort of fancy two-step/pirouette combo, to scramble out of the way of each new assault.

In the back of my mind I could hear Christine chiding me for not pressing an obvious attack, here; or taking advantage of his loose footing over one of the hazards strewn throughout the room.

 ***SHUT UP!** * I thrust the thought at her as I dodged another attack. I have never been a fighter! I just get out of the way of trouble, when it presents itself... I felt her mirth, then dead silence.

Logan pounced again, but this time I found that I had allowed myself to be herded into a corner. There was now nowhere to get out of the way to! EEP! SHE DID THAT ON PURPOSE!

His grin was a combination of hard won success and grim determination rewarded, when he landed both meaty hands on my shoulders, but slid off his face when I brought my wings around and hooked my duclaws into the meat of his deltoids. He only had time enough to realize what I was doing before I had launched him up and away from me with all the strength in my flight muscles.

Only his lightning reflexes, and years of practice at being tossed about kept him from being smashed into the opposite wall, like Kurt had been. He seemed to twist in the air like a cat, landing with his feet against the wall so he could dive back at me with all the force left in his own momentum. Yeah. That momentum I just gave him. Shit...

This guy was all business, now! I snapped my wings back to my body and twisted to the side, with my hands in front of my face, just in time to avoid the harsh metal of the FUCKING SWORDS he thrust into the wall on either side of me. Shit!

Shit! Shit! SHIT! I couldn't move my wings, this time, without slicing them on his impressive set of claws; so I did what any self respecting girl does when confined by a lunatic. I twisted between his arms, planted my elbow spikes in his pectorals, and forced my knee into his groin with enough force to send him back a couple of his body-lengths... Did I mention that this dude is short?

He also recovers super quick! I didn't even have time to gulp in another breath before he was bringing his double fistfull of three-foot swords to bear on me again! As he advanced I cast about the room for anything I could use as a shield, or weapon.

Kurt's hands were covering his mouth, and his eyes were wide with worry. Christine was making some sort of thrusting/jerking-off motion, and mouthing something that looked like 'toward'... whatever...

In a blink, Logan was driving toward me again with one deadly handful held up at eye-level and the other aiming to gut me.

Panic took my senses, while my brain chanted: 'What did I do wrong?!'

'What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?' I twisted out of the way of the spiky gut-punch, sucking in all I had, to get away from those damned knuckle razors. 'What did I do...? What Do I Do...?'

His other fist came down toward my head, and I realized that time had slowed. His claws were getting shorter. Christine, behind him, was growing into her larger form again. Kurt disappeared in a poof of dust. My fear vanished in an odd wave of pure, unadulterated joy. A blade of unimaginable beauty inserted itself between my face and Logan's claws, and the clash of bright metals was akin to church bells and angels singing.

The sword in my hand allowed me to lever Logan's mit away from my face, twisting the blades downward so that the claws and sword tip scraped the floor at our feet. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! My brain chanted at this blessed angel of steel death.

Time resumed its normal meander through space and perception, but my body now seemed to be moving much faster than I could think. The sword in my hand was part of my body, and we danced like lovers reunited. The sword was now leading the steps.

I vaulted over Logan, using his trapped hand as a springboard, and driving his claws further into the floor. He yanked his talons out of the concrete, but I had already turned in the air and landed on my feet facing him. Who knew all those aerobatics would come in handy for a fight? No more cornered dragons today! I stepped back a few more paces, and beckoned him to advance, with a twitch of my chin.

He lunged at me from where he crouched, punching up at my ribs with those deadly claws of his half sheathed; but I met his thrust with a sort of dipping sweep that allowed me to twist his momentum further upward than he had planned, and exposed his own ribs to me.

My free hand jabbed into his side, between his ribs and hip, armored claws digging for delicious treasures. He roared in pain when I pulled a chunk of flesh from his belly, and I relished the sweet smell of fear and the horror in his eyes as I lifted the treasure to my lips.

 ****WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!**** The thought that sliced through my mind was as sharp as the sword in my hands and just as painful. Sharp, bright, strong, and thrusting between my thoughts with a piercing intensity that belied a fire that could not... Would not be ignored.

We slammed the foreign thoughts out of my head like so much garbage being tossed in the dumpster; but the question did give me pause. What was I doing. Right now? Huh... What were we doing?

** _Fighting against a worthy opponent, of course._ ** The ethereal thought that wound its way through my mind was neither my own, nor out of place in my head. It felt right... even though it was certainly not my own personality. It didn't really have a personality, though. It was... It just was.

I felt a familiar hand on mine and looked down. Christine was pulling the bloody mass of claws and flesh away from my face, murmuring something about not eating the help.

I looked at my other hand and couldn't help but smile at the beautiful blade that rested in my grip; content to warm my fingers with its otherworldly energies. _Vorpal..._

Its silver-black metal seemed to absorb all light, but refracted everything in rainbow hues too subtle for human eyes to see. I flicked it side to side admiring the trails of purple, green, and blue that sparkled from every facet of the blade that smelled of steel and blood and something... more. _**Vorpal...**_

"Where did you get that sword, Neffydd?" The professor used my whole name and I looked at him. His eyes held the kind of fear that a parent has for a child who has just done something horrible, without warning. Concern...? I remembered shutting him out of my mind and realized that he'd been trying to reach me physically and psychically for a few moments, now.

I refocused my eyes, blinking at him like a lazy cat, and gave him a toothy smile that wasn't entirely my own.

" _ ***VORPAL?*"**_ I asked, for clarification.

At his nod, I continued; but, while my voice was my own, there was a projected thought that wound subtly around my words. It changed and enhanced the meanings of my own thoughts, giving Xavier a better understanding of our situation.

" _ ***I can remember no time without this entity,***_ although I don't think that It's ever been a sword before now... It feels like _***we were forged to be together,**_ _**and we might break if we're separated.***_ "

Professor Xavier raised a hand to regain my attention and smiled in that way adults do when they're trying to placate a frantic child.

"No one will try to separate the two of you." He placed his hands back onto the armrests of his wheelchair. "I would ask that you both refrain from eating any more of your instructors, or attacking any of our students, at all.

I looked down to where I had dropped the mass of blood and gore.

 _**That's all you. Swords bite; we don't eat.**_

Yeah? They also don't talk.

The sword's silence definitely had the flavor of righteous indignation.

I tried to glare at the rebellious hunk of metal in my hand, but it seemed to collapse in on itself, becoming the small tattoo on the inside of my wrist again. Huh! So that's where it had come from? Now I just had to figure out how to call it forth without being scared shitless, or rampaging in a murderous rage.

As soon as I thought about it I heard a belabored mental sigh, as if the metal of the blade rasped against something it didn't like, then the _Vorpal Blade_ slid out from between dimensions to fit itself into my palm.

I grinned at my new-found ability and looked up at my friends. "What...?" I asked, finally taking in the spectrum of emotions expressed among them, ranging from fear, to concerned interest, to glee.

Professor X pressed his lips together and made a dismissive wave with one hand, while reaching down and unlocking the brake lever on his chair with the other. Logan had his scarred face in a masque of indifference as he grabbed the handles at the back of the Professor's chair, turned it in place, then pushed it out of the reinforced hatch.

Kurt looked from my glowing expression, to the slow smile creeping across Christine's face. His normal cerulean visage blanched almost powder blue and he muttered something about cleaning his room before he popped out of the training room.

I turned back to Christine and quirked my eyebrow in a silent question.

"What?" She squared off her stance to mine. "Put that eyebrow down. I wanna see what you can do with that pig-sticker!"

 ****NO!**** From the sour look on Christine's face, and the metallic echo of the command, I guessed that the Professor had spoken to all of us. ****You may spar; but NO weapons, for now.**** _Vorpal_ slid itself home, with no further prompting.

Christine frowned a little harder before making a vague gesture toward the center of the room.

"One more round before dinner?" I proposed, and she nodded with a bright, sharp-toothed grin.


	3. Weekend Plans

So, that continued for the next couple weeks... No, not the fight. The training, dummy! Classwork, martial training, hanging out by the fire pit with the rest of the kids. It all became pretty routine, and I'm not going to describe every boring detail. It was pretty awesome to be boring, tough. Normal.

I mean, we totally found interesting things to do and made up some weird games to keep us occupied in our free time. Remind me to tell you about tag football, with flyers!

One fine Friday: Christine, Pixi, Monet, and I were playing Sky Tag when we got the Professor's signature 'come-hither'. I rolled away from Pixi's clumsy dart at me, and opened my wings to glide in for a landing. Christine mirrored me on the left; the two of us creating enough of a windbreak that Pixi, could fall faster without shredding her more delicate wings.

I felt Pixi's tiny hand on my neck just before her toes settled behind my hips, right above my tail. "Tag!" She yelled into my ear and my bark of laughter was carried away on the wind whipping past our heads.

I folded my arms back and grabbed her ankles, as we'd been practicing. Her fingers dug into the rough scales of my wing shoulders, and I dove for a landing on the balcony outside the Professor's office. She clung to me, allowing the air pressure to hold her against my plummeting body.

I firmed my grip around her ankles and spread my wings to cup the air rushing past us. This time she stayed on through the turbulence and let me get a good grip on the railing before bouncing off to the side. Last time? She sprained a wing.

"Didn't we agree that Pixi would not participate in your calisthenics plan?" The professor asked from behind his desk. There was a small, mousy girl sitting in a chair on the other side of the desk from him. She blinked big green eyes at my welcoming smile, but said nothing.

"Naw..." I folded my wings back against my body and laid my spines down, to look as non-threatening as possible. "You told me not to, and we decided just to do it better. It's her wings, and my back. Hi! I'm Neffydd Maelgwynn." I stuck my hand out between the new girl and I, palm up.

She touched my first three fingers with her own clawed fingertips, so that the middles met and it seemed natural to touch the joined middle fingers with our thumbs. Her smile was, at once, shy and brilliant.

"Hi, Neffydd." Her accent was light, indefinable; but there was something familiar about the way she said my name... "I am C'lyodnagh. That is our friend Saisha." I followed her gesture to the hallway door and saw another girl standing there, in the shadows.

Her hair was the kind of black that absorbed all light, pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her skull and she was wearing a set of capri blue jeans that flared wide at the knee, and a dark colored T shirt with a Japanese logo on it. Saisha tapped the pale knuckles of her right fist to her sternum and nodded to me, her ebony eyes never leaving mine. That one never says much, but she loves swords. I'll tell you about it, later.

Charles put Christine and I in charge of showing Sai and C'leo around, getting them settled in, and such. C'leo asked if there was a clothing store and didn't even make it through whatever lame excuse she had for not having a change of clothes between the two of them.

Monet took Saisha's elbow, sliding her hand through Sai's crooked arm like a lady prompting her escort, and Pixi just sort of materialized in front of us, at the door to their new dorm room.

"Shopping?" Blink stepped through a door down the hall and strode up to the gathering gaggle of teen girls. "Let's show you girls the room of dead fashions, first. Maybe we can find you some night clothes and we can go into town tomorrow?"

The plans for our Saturday evolved into shopping, lunch, and a movie, as we sorted through the abandoned clothes in the room of dead fashion. Soon we had some casual clothes for the girls to go shopping in, a couple of oversized T shirts and shorts, and a big, purple, terry cloth robe for C'lyodnagh. Apparently she wasn't the only one around here who liked weird clothes? We did convince her not to wear it down to breakfast, though.

C'lyodnagh was an odd sort of creature. As we shopped our way through the morning, it became apparent that she would honestly rather read her comic books than interact with any of us. She was a little too withdrawn for the exuberant group, and any time we mentioned doing anything the least bit physical she became quite recalcitrant.

Somewhere over the next week, Pixi and Chris found an old pamphlet on Teamwork and slipped it between the pages of C'leo's comic. It was at that point we came to the conclusion that the poor girl hadn't learned to read. It seemed to us that she got the meanings from the pictures or directly from the minds of the students around her.

I took special care to telepathically send her the meanings of things she should be able to read for herself; and to help her in little ways, like putting her name on attendance lists and sign-up forms. This weekend we're going to New York City for a field trip!

The days of the week filled up with all the little things that tend to keep a person's mind off the passage of time, and soon it was time to board the van we would ride into the City. The whole universe seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation. Good things were going to happen this weekend!

The whole trip I kept watching out the window, taking in the cool green and yellow of early autumn in the New England countryside. The critters and creatures in the woodlands seemed to come out especially to gain my attention. It was at the point where I saw a small man riding a large corgi that I decided I should probably stop letting my mind wander around the forest, and get back to what was really going on.

"No, Chris." Bobby had a book in his hand, and was pointing to something in its open pages. "Genghis Khan was a general from thousands of years BCE. He is NOT the half brother of a fictional astronaut!" Christine was turning purple with embarrassed rage.

"Actually;" I interjected, "Doctor Spock would no more be called an 'astronaut' than we would call a modern scientist upon a ship an 'aquanaut'. Furthermore, Genghis Khan was _much_ more than a simple 'general'. His lifespan did not touch upon Western timekeeping, so we would all be more comfortable if we use the Chinese Dynastic traditions. His role in this conversation, however, is as the namesake of the fictional antagonist for a science-based fantasy. Now that's been cleared up: Continue?"

The van got eerily silent as people looked from Bobby, to Chris, to myself, and back again. Christine started to laugh, and Bobby got red around the collar.

"My sis grew up in a circus and she _still_ knows more than you do, pretty boy!" She hooked her elbow around my neck.

"I don't know about that, Chris..." I pushed her arm off my shoulders. "I'm sure he knows a lot that I can still learn." I smiled at him, and he got even more red.

"Ooooh..." Kurt cooed, "Da Queen o'da Fae pick her king?"

"Hey! No..." I slapped his shoulder, and scowled at him. "No fair telling secrets! Now you gotta tell one of yours."

"Okay!" His smile made him look like a teenaged blue devil. "I have a blue peni~*" Christine's wing knuckles connected squarely with Kurt's grinning mouth. "OW! Hey!"

"THAT!" Christine's bellow filled the van completely, quietling the prattle of the other teens. "Is not a secret!"

From there the conversation devolved into crude social posturing and giggles. I tuned most of it out until we pulled up to the parking garage under the huge skyscraper in the middle of a grand industrial complex called Stark Center for Science and Technologies.

That's right, folks! This is as close as I'll ever get to that beautiful boy genius. Still, not bad; right? A couple seasons ago I was being teased by all my 'friends' for failing so miserably the night he came to our show... Now I'm at his show! With real friends!

I tucked my wings firmly around my body, under my favorite poncho, and waited my turn to disembark. I'm sure I was grinning from ear, to pointed ear as I climbed out into the cool, man-made cavern of the subterranean parking garage. We were herded toward the underground entrance to meet up with our tour guide, like so many cats; and then I died.

OK! I didn't die... but let me tell you how I ruined my entire childhood, and probably any chance of being cool... ever. You see: our tour guide was none other than the world's most eligible bachelor-to-be, boy genius, and love of my insignificant life; Anthony Edward (ohmygodsI'mgonnadie) Stark.

He looked over our eclectic group of young creatures with his signature cocky grin, and suddenly I was wishing that I had taken Monet up on the smart-looking jean pantsuit, instead of my favorite rainbow tie-dyed poncho over an altered wife-beater and bellbottoms.

His eyes were almost glazed over with boredom, as his gaze slid over our motley crew; but then his attention caught on me, and his smile widened. I will remember his beautiful, glowing grin for the rest of my natural life! His eyes held some sort of emotion that may have been awe... or maybe just appreciation, and crinkled a little at the corners when he smiled.

He said lots of things, but I have no idea what. Probably something about the complex? Business? I jumped a little when Christine took my elbow, and tugged me along with the group.

*Wow!* Her voice in my head was simultaneously joking, and awe-struck. *You got it bad, girl!*

I gave her a mental sigh, and shrugged as I fell into step beside her. *Yeah... well, there's nothing a carnie chick can do about that.*

I tried to hide the feeling of bits of my heart breaking off and floating away with my chance to talk to Mr. Crush-of-all-Crushes, but I could see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She firmed up her chin, and pursed her lips in distaste.

*You are a warrior princess from the Faery Realm! You're beautiful, smart, strong, and fast!* She pulled on my arm, and laid her head on my shoulder. *You're more than just a Carnie, my sister.* Her arm was still threaded through mine, like she were escorting me to some fancy medieval ball, and was strong-arming me along with the rest of the class.

The rest of that morning consisted of a guided tour of the complex, where we ogled neat gadgets and listened to Tony Stark, boy dreamboat, regurgitate a scripted list of trivia about each new exhibit with a sort of bored, scornful tone.

Just before lunch, we were ushered into a gleaming art gallery filled with framed schematics for many, many more projects than we had been shown on the tour. They were hung from the ceiling every few feet, sandwiched between thick glass, so that we could walk between them, and view both sides.

I was tracing circuit pathways for a device simply labeled 'H.I.D.' with one carefully shaped, and lacquered claw, when someone tapped the glass next to my finger, making me jump again.

"Sorry..." He chuckled when I turned my surprised gaze on him. Tony Stark was talking to me! SHIT! He was STILL TALKING and I had NO IDEA WHAT HE JUST SAID!

He stuck out his hand, and I grasped it in an automatic gesture without thinking about how he would react to my reptilian claws. I'm so glad I let Monet give me a manicure! To his credit he just stood there, holding my draconic mitt, and looking at me expectantly. He had probably asked for my name... duh.

"Uhm... I'm Nan..." Smooth, girl! Real smooth. I blessed every god that thought to color me purple and green, instead of human brown and pink! Most people wouldn't even notice the hard blush I had going on, right then... but...

"I know. I got your autograph once... Are you feeling okay, Nan?" He cupped my elbow with his free hand, his liquid brown eyes tinged with concern.

"Oh, yup!" My smile felt a little too bright for this particular situation. I took my arm back, and backed away from him. "Nothing a little dying of embarrassment in the girls' room won't cure... Speaking of! I've got something I need to do, right now! It was lovely to meet you! BYE!" I turned a smart about-face, and marched directly to the nearest bathroom to hide.

Behind me I heard him mutter: "Uh... Bye...?"

I was in the bathroom for about ten minutes before Chris, Sai, and C'leo came to route me out.

"Nan...? Are you okay?" I heard Saisha call from the doorway. "What happened?"

"Ohhh My Gods..." I groaned from my stall.

"Are you okay, Nan?" C'lyodnagh might have been concerned, but she would never be accused of being original.

"She's fine, C'leo." If anyone, Chris would know. "Just a little embarrassed, is all; right, sis?" She pushed the door to my stall open. So much for dying in privacy...

"I just stood there, like a Moron, just holding his hand!" I buried my hot face in my hands. "Ohmygods..."

"No, no, no, sweetie!" Sai knelt in front of me, and placed a hand on my knee. "I'm sure he doesn't think that you're a moron."

"Well... not JUST you, at least..." C'leo wasn't very good at comforting people; but she was kinda right.

"C'lyodnagh!" Saisha swatted the older girl in the shin.

"Come on, Nan!" Chris leaned over Sai to grab my hands away from my face, then sorta forced the smaller girl out of the way, just by wanting the space all to herself. She pulled me to my feet and grinned. "It's time for lunch! I think they packed PB&J for us!"

The girls swarmed around me, and bustled me back through the door into the main gallery. They chattered as they walked me through the empty room with its white tiles and shiny schematics, then out a door that lead into a private courtyard where the early autumn sun streamed down on the rest of our classmates.

Everyone seemed to be in various states of rest and sandwich consumption, so I snatched up a brown bag from the long folding table where they had been piled, then selected an apple and a bottle of coke to wash it all down. The other girls followed suit, and we settled in a secluded corner of the yard to soak in the sun, and eat.

The girls were still chattering and picking at their sandwiches well after Christine and I had wolfed down our own food, so I leaned back and unwrapped my wings. I spread them wide to catch more of the sun, and felt myself drift into a sun was warm, the breeze was relaxing, and my mind wandered off to find a happy place to play in.

I didn't feel like moving when I felt Christine get up; but when I smelled Kurt's favorite cologne, I smiled and cracked an eye open. Even through my eyelids, the Sun had dilated my emerald irises down to star-shaped slits, and it tool me a few seconds to realize that I was staring at Tony Fucking Stark for the THIRD time today!

"Shit..." The cuss was out of my mouth before I could hold it back. I watched a complex set of emotions wash across his face before he got them under control. Shock; Curiosity; Longing; Loss; Chagrin; Sorrow... I knew that mix. He was lonely, and even the dragon girl was avoiding him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." His face had smoothed into a carefully polite masque, and he turned away.

"No!" I snatched his hand up in my lizardy claws. "Please don't go...? I just really suck at accepting that some people don't want to make fun of me." I lifted a wing for emphasis, and he got that look again. Almost as if he were jealous of my wings...?

"You...?" He paused for a second, thoughtful. "Okay; I'm not gonna day that I can't see that, people are cruel. But, I will promise that I won't ever make you feel like that." He smiled again, and squeezed my scaled fingers with a light pressure before dropping them.

"Thanks." I smiled more at the ground, than at him. "I'm not used to civilized people... I grew up as a circus sideshow."

"So that _was_ you?" Something about how he said that made me look up into his wonder-filled eyes. "I once saw the most beautiful girl at the circus. I've spent years trying to find out how you did your costume. Now that I know, I can totally make one for myself." He stroked light fingertips down the leader 'finger' of my wing.

I was openly gawping at him. Staring... for the _FOURTH_ time today! Once my brain processed what he had just said, I couldn't help but dissolve into hysterical laughter.

I laughed until tears streamed down my face. I laughed until I was gasping for breath, and my knees started to shake from the effort of holding me up. I put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I tried to swallow down the remaining giggles.

"I think you'll need a little more than gadgets to build something like Me." I patted his shoulder, and sighed.

"I'm willing to give it a go." He snaked his arm across his body, to lay his hand over mine on his shoulder. There were so many nuances to the words he just said that my mind started to spin with the possibilities. I slipped my hand out from under his, and took a step back.

I gotta get back to the group.I think we're staying the night at a hotel here in the city..." I looked into his expectant eyes, and smiled. "Will you call me later?"

His eyes shone bright with the smile he gave me. "Sure thing!"

I trotted back through the courtyard doors and caught up with the group as we were being herded down to the garage.

The moment we got back in the van I dove for my seat, and covered my face with my hands. "Oh my gods..." I groaned. "What is wrong with me?!" My heart was beating faster than it ever did while I was sparring; I felt light-headed, and short of breath.

Monet rubbed my head like a puppy. "Is the 'first love', no?" I groaned again, and she giggled at my displeasure.

"I do not LOVE him, you creepy girl. I barely know him."

"Ahhh... but this is the first step to marital bliss, huh?" She poked my wing. "To know him?"

"Married?" My voice squeaked, and she giggled again. "Mo-mo, I'm never going to get married... and would Tony ever choose to marry a freak, like me?" The last bit was muttered under my breath, but she must have heard me with her perfect fucking hearing.

"You never know, Nan." She whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.

"No, Monet, I don't." I grumbled, "But not everyone is perfect, so we gotta learn to deal with it."

"By not allowing yourself to try?"

"Oh, my gods, Monet!" I threw my hands in the air. "It's not like I'm breaking up with the guy! He hasn't even called me, yet. He probably won't, but I gave him my number, didn't I?"

"Actually, you forgot that part." Chris chimed in. I thought back, over the conversation I had with Tony, and went cold. I fucking forgot to give him my number...

"Oh, for Heavin's sake, Nan!" Saisha gave me an exasperated sigh. "She gave him the card from the hotel. She's just messing with you."

"Really...?" Hope flared again, and seemed to restart my faltering heartbeat.

The van started up with a deep diesel roar, and Sai pointed out the window. "Yep; see?"

I looked out the window as we started to pull away from our parking spot, and I saw Tony standing at the door to the lift. Our eyes met and he smiled at me again. He had a small square of paper between his fingers, that he was waving us off with.

I found myself smiling back, and I waved goodbye. Talking to him was the absolute most terrifying thing that I've ever done.


End file.
